


Alone at Last...

by Weirdo_withthe_burrito



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Dungeons & Dragons References, Fear, Fear of pain, Hearing Voices, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insanity, Mind Manipulation, Minor Injuries, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Non-Human Character(s) - Freeform, POV Female Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Serious Injuries, not really - Freeform, reference of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27322804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weirdo_withthe_burrito/pseuds/Weirdo_withthe_burrito
Summary: (this is only a small portion of the book I am writing.)Nezzera finds herself walking alone throughout the foreign forest. Unfortunately, she's not actually alone if one is counting the dark disembodied voice in her head. The thing keeps insisting that it is there to help her. If it really did want to keep her alive why would it sway her to betray her friends and lead her to her death in this Gods forsaken wood? why would try to save her life yet attempt to render her insane? What does the black entity with whit eyes really want from her? And is it worth staying alive for it?





	Alone at Last...

**Author's Note:**

> **  
> Anyhow, this is just a portion of the book I'm working on that I'm really proud of, and just wanted to show it off! It's a bit dark and angsty but that's the point of this part of the plot arc!  
> 

It's been three days since she's spoken aloud. The isolation and the serenity of the dark forest rendering her voice unneeded; as she trekked along a game trail to a place only the Gods know of. Her stomach growled in protest as she marched through a dense patch of greenery. Brambles tore at her exposed calves and bare arms. As well as not talking for three days, she also hasn't eaten for three days either, nor has she had any semblance of water for the past two.  
The humidity wasn't helping. Every time she emerged out from the shaded embrace of the canopy into a sun-soaked clearing, the loose strands of her matted bun suck to the nape of her neck tenfold. Even her migraines had migraines, and the voice in her head wasn’t helping either.  
**_I am helping. I’m ensuring thee don’t wend insane._**  
He chuckled, projecting an image of Nez curled in the fetal position, rocking back and forth while muttering gibberish to herself.  
“Fuck off.” she finally muttered, pushing a low hanging branch to the side and continued forward at a slower pace. The wood was growing denser and denser, incline steadily decreasing, pulling all her focus into keeping her feet rather than on pushing away the images he brought forth. She's been successful at keeping him at bay and ignoring him at first, but she's only grown weaker.  
**_No, I shall not ‘Fuck off’. The more you loseth yourself to her grasp, the more I shall slip into the far recess of thy subconscious_**  
“That gives me even less incentive to listen to you.” she pulls through another patch of thorns, adding more cuts to the crosshatches on her legs.  
**_Which gives me more need to sway thy opinion of me. T's strange by the way, you betray thy friends and allies in order to keepeth this minute part of me yet you resent me so? Why is that?_**  
Why did I do that? She thought to herself. She loved her friends, still does. But something compelled her then, to pay no mind to that bond they shared. To pull away emotionally and act on instinct. On want and greed.  
_**Thee shouldn't dwell on the past so much mine dearest. What hast happened hast happened, the choices you made no longer affect the choices they so chose to ensue.**_  
She paused, brow scrunching as she tried to process what the hell he meant. “What are you even saying you old ass victorian shadow?”  
_**What I mean is thee made the correct choice. They were holding you back, trying to bring thee down from the power thee bear out of their jealousy.**_  
“The right choice huh?” she continued her way downhill. The gentle slope now stretched into a much steeper hillside.  
The voice chose no to respond, instead, bringing more images and memories to the forefront of her sight. The image of the manticore attack during training, the moment she took the beast's life, the way her four companions shunned her for it. How they shouted saying she was selfish for fighting it alone. That she should have let them fight for her, how she's useless and _stupid_ to try to fight it without the same magic they wield. That they almost would have preferred the beast maul her so she'll finally know her place. A chill ran through her as she retracted from the harsh words of her friends. They didn't say that though, did they?  
With the loss of vision, her next step was misplaced, a stone sliding beneath it and throwing her balance. She hit the ground hard, sliding down on her back through dirt and brush.  
Before she could fold into a somersault something cold and sharp entwined itself around her upper arm, stopping her mid-fall.  
“Wha-”  
_**“I told thee I’m here to help you, thou insufferable brat”**_  
She turned, the voice much louder, no longer just in her head. Rooted in her arm were thorns and vines— No, the shape of thorns and vines. The object that saved her was nothing more than a silhouette, a shadow of the bushes and vines nearby.  
Confusion and fear set in as she saw its origin. An impossibly tall figure pulled himself up to his full height. Broad shoulders ended in long arms, hand outstretched to where he grasped her. The square shape of a face pulled into what looked like horns? A crown? She questioned it for no more than a second as eyes opened on the face, white orbs glowing impossibly black as they glared into the back of her mind.  
She screamed before taking in anything more. Pulling out one of her hatchets she thrust it down through the chords of the— thing— latched onto her. Breaking its hold in one swing.  
She immediately continued her fall. Head over heels over head, she rolled into rocks and crashed into trees. Screaming in pain and fear all the while.  
She hit the forest floor at the base of the hill with a yelp, gasping for air. She pulled a fist-sized stone out from under her diaphragm, cursing it as she rolled to her back gasping for air.  
Just as she regained her breath was when the adrenaline began to wear off. Pain shot through her legs, back, head, and gut. Bruises flared all over, as blood began to trickle into a pool beneath her.  
“Toes…” she gasped, trying to wiggle her toes. The toe of her left boot moved in time with her toes inside, the right did not.  
“...and legs.” another gasp as she pulled her left leg up, bending at the knee; wincing at the pain along her outer thigh as the gash across the skin moved with it. She tried the right leg, only to scream as her other knee moved with a sickening pop as her lower leg snapped down, bone tenting the skin.  
Crying through her words, “Fingers…” her right fingers moved into a fist without issue, minus the broken index; her left barely twitched as she hissed through the broken pain it took to curl them.  
This continued for almost an hour; her cries, yelps, and shouts flowing through the distant birdsong as she slowly went through cataloging every source of pain throughout her body. Growing more and more distraught at her condition.  
_Shit_. She thought, pulling her extremities into her as she laid there, wincing in pain, blood staining her skin and clothes.  
Laying there, shaking, Nezzera began to pull back, out of her mind. Drew back from the burning sting of the cuts and scrapes, the dull aches, pounding in her head, and the numb void in her chest. Her eyes clouded over while her strangled breath slowed as she disconnected from the pain for what she felt might be the last time in her pathetic life. Her old scars tingled, sending a shudder through the core of her bones.  
Her mind continued to slow and quiet as the slight brush of leaves and chirping birdsong drifted again through the shaded woods. _...hope they find my body_. Was her last coherent thought before her mind was overcome by the familiar numb that clouded her early childhood.  
_**“Oh my child, I know the caress of death’s embrace is inviting, but I refuse to be pulled into it.”**_  
And with that, a pair of dark boots came into her clouded view, just as her vision went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting this far! Please leave feedback or comments that you have!! It really does help!!!


End file.
